Haven
by xxphoenixfallenxx
Summary: Occurs before/during/after The Winter Soldier. Bucky keeps returning to a house, not sure why he feels the constant pull to return there. Somehow, he knows, someone is waiting for him. When everything falls apart, she is the only one who can help him start over. Help him find himself. But can he forget, and forgive, his past? Bucky/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Captain America series or anything related to it. Faya Kline is my OC.**

I am in love with a man with a metal arm.

He has no name. No memories. A mystery.

Sometimes he comes back and doesn't know who I am. But he always comes back. Always.

I started calling him Jace. It just seemed to fit him. After a while he started answering to it. Even when he forgot who I was, he recognized the name. I even took a few pictures of us together, to help him remember when he forgot.

I didn't love him at first sight, that's for sure. It took him showing up at my door ten times before I knew he would be around a lot, and I couldn't keep sending him away.

We met on a rainy night when I was walking home from work. I'd had to stay an extra shift at the diner that night because Erica never showed up. I was exhausted, cold, and because the rain was unexpected, I had no coat and was wet. I was nearly home when someone grabbed me from behind. Dragged me into an alley. Threw me onto the ground. I hit my head hard and for a moment I saw stars. The person, a guy, crawled on top of me. I punched and kicked, tried to scream, but he grabbed my head and smashed it against the hard pavement again. Somewhere in the fuzzy stars, I felt him pulling at the belt around my waist. Then I heard him cry out in alarm, and suddenly, so fast I didn't realize it at first, he wasn't on top of me anymore.

I sat up slowly, holding the back of my head. At least it wasn't bleeding. I saw the guy slumped against the far wall across from me. He wasn't moving. What happened? I looked around again and realized someone was standing just behind me. It was the first time I saw Jace.

He was leaning against the opposite wall, breathing heavily, holding an arm to his side. I got up slowly, swaying slightly as my head spun. He didn't move, and as lightning flashed I realized he was hurt badly from the red stains covering the side of his white shirt. I rushed over to help, but he shoved me back so quickly I nearly fell backwards.

I kept insisting on trying to help him. After all, he had saved me. I told him I went to school to be a nurse, excluding the part that I didn't finish because I couldn't afford it. I continued to demand he let me help him, telling him I'd call an ambulance if he didn't. Finally, he gave in. I realize later it was because he was under threat of being exposed. Jace had a mysterious occupation, one that demanded secrecy.

I lead him back to my house, a decent walk from the urban part of town. Beyond walking with a slight limp as he kept a hand firmly pressed over his wounded side, he made no complaints. In fact, he barely spoke. Once we were inside, I brought him to the bathroom and pulled out a well kept med kit.

"Take off your shirt." I demanded, pulling out the standard gauze pads, bandages, and I pulled out a hooked needle and thread for stitches.

He gave me a skeptical look, and then got quickly irritated.

"Out. I can do it myself." He growled.

I glared at him, he glared back. He gave me what would become the typical Jace scowl, his deep blue eyes promising something bad if I did not obey his commands. A look I would challenge constantly.

"Fine." I snapped, and as I walked out he slammed the door shut behind me. Rude.

I went upstairs, locking my bedroom door shut behind me. I quickly changed into a dry t-shirt and some sweats, and rubbed my wet hair with a towel. Once slightly more dry, I went downstairs just as he had seemed to finish up, as he opened the door and walked out.

"So... what happened to you?" I asked, tossing a clean towel to him.

He wiped at his face and hair quickly before putting it down over the back of a chair. He must have had to remove his leather jacket and shirt to fix whatever had happened, but both were back in place. Odd.

He looked around the room before his eyes locked onto me, and he shrugged.

"Bar fight. Guy broke a bottle and tried to cut me with it." He said bluntly.

"And succeeded." I added.

He actually smirked for a second, before the Jace scowl returned, and suddenly he was right in front of, violating any personal space I had. He reached out and touched the back of my head. I slapped his hand away, jerking away from him, scrambling back to gain some space between us. He stood completely still, and turned the hand to face me. There was blood on his fingertips.

"Shit." I cursed, feeling the back of my head.

I pulled my hand away and sure enough it was bleeding. Not a lot, as far as head wounds go. Definitely had a concussion. I sighed and walked past him, back into the bathroom. I pulled out another gauze pad from the box and held it against the spot that was bleeding. I noticed the mess he'd left behind. Seemed like a lot more than a slight cut from a bar fight, considering the amount of blood drenched gauze he'd left in the garbage.

"Are you sure you don't want me to look at that? It seems pretty bad." I said, walking back out into the hall just as he reached the front door. "Hey, where are you going?" I demanded, walking up to him.

"Home." He growled, seeming very irritated with the whole situation.

"It's pouring out and you have a bleeding wound. Seriously, just sit for a while, at least until it stops raining." I insisted.

The guy had saved me after all. He couldn't be that dangerous... could he? He seemed to consider the idea, for a moment. I leaned against the wall, feeling tired suddenly.

"Thanks for the help." He said dryly, and opened the door.

"Wait..." I said, tried to go after him.

Fell. Hard. Blacked out.

I woke up with one of the worst headaches I'd ever had. I groaned, and opened my eyes slightly. Shit, it was daytime. I sat up slowly, feeling nauseous as the room spun. I felt the back of my head and was confused by how cold it felt. I looked at my pillow and saw an ice pack wrapped in a rag. What the hell...

I remembered the stranger and got up quickly. Moving slowly, using the walls for balance, I checked the entire upstairs of my house. Then I went downstairs. I walked around slowly, with growing suspicion. Had he left? I finished my search and realized he had left, probably some time ago. I made my way into the kitchen and leaned against the fridge for a moment, taking a few deep breaths, closing my eyes for a moment.

I opened them and saw a glass of water and some aspirin sitting on the kitchen counter with a note.

_Thanks._

I didn't see Jace again for another month.

**Reviews please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Captain America series or anything related to it. Faya Kline is my OC.  
Thank you to everyone for the reviews and follows and favorites!**

_Sometimes, very few times mind you, I wonder if I had known the truth about Jace, if I would still love him. If I would have let him in. I wonder how different my life could be now. But wondering won't solve anything. Wondering won't change the past._

For days I thought maybe nothing had happened. That I wasn't attacked in an alley by some crazed man, that another man hadn't saved me. That this stranger had helped me when I passed out from a mild concussion, took the time to carry me upstairs to bed, even with his injury. Put an ice pack under my head, and left out the aspirin. I could not, however, simply be imagining the bloody bandages left in my garbage, or the large lump on the back of my head. I could not imagine the headlines of the paper, "_Wanted Suspect Found Dead in Alley"._

As the weeks passed, I pushed the stranger from my thoughts as best I could. I went back to work after recovering from my head injury, caused by "a fall down the stairs at home due to the rain". Everything was going back to normal.

Then he came back.

I wasn't able to sleep. I kept tossing and turning until I couldn't take it anymore. I went downstairs and turned on the TV, snuggled up under some blankets on the couch, and watched an old favorite, Finding Nemo.

I was near the point of dozing off when I heard something at the front door. I turned down the volume of the movie, listening. Surely that couldn't be someone knocking at this hour?...

I heard it again, slightly louder this time. Slowly I got up, trailing a blanket around me. I shuffled to the front door and peeked through the peep hole. Gasped. Undid the locks as fast as I could. Ripped open the door, and pulled the poor man inside.

His face was bruised and bloody, and he had been leaning against the door for support. He stumbled slightly as I closed the door behind him, leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. His face creased with pain.

"Come on." I said urgently, gently tugging him towards the bathroom.

He sat down slowly, grunting with the effort. I pulled out my kit, restocked, and began pulling out just about everything. I grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cold water, then turned to him.

"May I?" I asked, motioning the rag towards his face.

One eye was nearly swollen shut. The other glared indignantly at me. I noticed now, his eyes weren't really blue. Not entirely. They were an incredible blue green. And they were beginning to glare as I realized I'd been staring far too long. He grunted, giving me permission to gently dab at his blood covered face.

I was relieved, and slightly horrified, to discover most of the blood was not his own. He only had a few cuts, and they weren't bleeding heavily enough to cover his whole face. Once it was clean, I took careful observation of his wounds.

"Your eye socket might be fractured." I said quietly.

I pulled out some antibiotic ointment and bandages, and snapped an ice pack to activate the chemicals inside. Once it was cold I offered it to him, and he carefully placed it over his eye. I then carefully swiped the antibiotic ointment over the cuts and placed the bandages over them.

"Another bar fight?" I asked humorously, trying to lighten the tension that had built up in the room.

This elicited another smirk from him, though slight as his lip was split. He leaned back a little.

"Yep. Drunk people and bars just don't seem to get along with me." He said.

I sat back, and quickly looked over the rest of him. He seemed to be ok.

"Anything else I need to fix?" I asked.

"I can handle the rest. If you don't mind..." He said, eyeing me with his good eye.

"Sure... let me know if you need anything else." I said and quickly left, shutting the door behind me.

I folded the blankets on the couch and draped them over the top. I went into the kitchen and pulled out some aspirin. He'd probably need it. Then I leaned against the counter, sighing.

Why did he come here, and not go to the hospital? Thinking more clearly now, why had I let him in? I didn't know who he was. Getting into brutal bar fights was clearly something he did on a regular basis. I needed answers...

He came into the kitchen slowly, still holding the ice pack to his eye, looking at me cautiously. I wordlessly motioned to the counter where I'd left out the pills and a glass of orange juice. He went over and took them. Turned back to me.

"Do you not have insurance or something?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"What?" He asked.

"Insurance. You really should have gone to the hospital last time, and this time." I said pointedly.

"Right, yeah. I don't have insurance." He said slowly.

I didn't really believe him, but did I really wanna push him? No, better not.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you so late at night. I just saw the lights were on, and seeing as you're a nurse, I thought you might be able to help me again." He said quietly.

I was startled by his explanation for a moment.

"It's fine. You saved me, after all." I said.

For a few moments we were both completely silent. Then he shifted, started moving.

"You're leaving already?" I asked.

"I've taken up enough of your time. I'm going home to sleep this off." He replied, that dangerous growl almost hinting in his voice.

"Well, do you want to take a few more bandages with you? Those will need to be changed soon." I offered.

He paused, as if amused by the thought.

"No, I have plenty at home. Thanks." And he was off to the door.

"Wait." I said quickly as he opened the door.

"What?" He growled, glaring his good eye at me.

"Do I at least get to know your name?" I asked.

He stood there for a moment, and his brow wrinkled as if he had to actually think about it.

"I...uh... no. Thanks for the help."

And he was gone.

Though I tried to relax, go back to watching movies, my mind was elsewhere. On the stranger. The confusion in his eyes as he seemed to try to remember his own name. At the way his hand had grazed the doorknob as he closed the door, making the strangest sound. Metal?

Sometime, as the sun was beginning to light up the world outside, I dozed off. I dreamed of green blue eyes.

**Reviews please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Captain America series or anything related to it. Faya Kline is my OC.  
Thank you to everyone for the reviews and follows and favorites!**

Another long night at work. I was completely exhausted as I walked home. My feet hurt and I was starving. I got home, and shuffled into the kitchen, pulling out a microwave mac n' cheese meal from the freezer. I put it in the microwave, and then went upstairs. I changed into my PJs and went into the bathroom, splashing my face with some cold water.

I heard the microwave beep, meaning my food was done. I dried my face off and went downstairs. I rounded the corner to the kitchen and nearly screamed.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

There he was, the stranger, stuffing his face with _my _food.

"Eating." He mumbled around a mouthful.  
"Did you break in?" I demanded.  
"Mhmm."  
"Give me that!" I yelled, yanking the plastic container out of his hands and dropping it on the counter beside me. "WHat do you think this is, your house? No, it's mine! You don't just let yourself into other people's houses and eat their food!" I exclaimed, glaring at him.

He crossed his arms, lowering an intense gaze on me that made me take a step back.

"I need to stay here for a couple days." He said bluntly.  
"Excuse me?"  
"I'll pay you."  
"What happened to your place?"  
"I got kicked out."  
"What'd you do?"  
"Had a disagreement with my landlord."  
"Then get a hotel room." I growled, turning my own glare on him.

"I can't."  
"Why not?"  
"I just can't!" He snapped suddenly.

He took a few deep breaths, squeezing his eyes shut from frustration. I was still infuriated that he had the nerve to walk into my house, then demand to stay there. Why here, why me?

"I'll give you $1000. Just a few days. Please." He said quietly.  
And I saw the truth in his eyes as he glanced up at me. He was exhausted. He looked like he could use a shower, and food. And sleep. I sighed heavily and handed the mac n' cheese back to him.

"You get the couch." I said firmly.

I grabbed a granola bar off the top of the fridge and pulled the wrapper off, and took a bite as I walked down the hall. I stopped at the small linen closet next to the washer and dryer and pulled out some spare pillows and a comforter, and placed them neatly on the couch. I then went back to the kitchen.

"How long exactly do you plan to stay?" I asked, leaning against the counter, finishing the last of the granola bar. Some dinner.  
"Just a few days, three or four maybe."  
"Do I get to know your name?" I asked.  
"No."

"Fine!" I burst out, irritated by his need to keep his damn name a secret. I spun on my heel and went back down the hall. "I'm going to sleep. Don't eat all my food." I called over my shoulder.

As I turned to climb the stairs, he called out.

"Thank you."  
I looked at him, and saw the relief, however small, in his expression. I paused a moment.  
"Faya." I said quietly.  
"What?"  
"My name." I said with a yawn.  
"Right... Goodnight, Faya."

I climbed the stairs, feeling like my legs were lead, walked into my bedroom, and locked the door behind me, pausing for a moment.

"I need to stop being so nice." I sighed.

I turned the lights off and curled up under the covers. As I lay there, waiting for sleep, I heard the downstairs shower come on. I wondered about the stranger in my house. WHy did he pick me, my place? I wondered until I fell asleep.

"Faya."  
I awoke, startled, for a moment forgetting he was in my house. I glanced at the alarm clock beside my bed. 9 a.m. Slept in again.  
"Yeah?" I mumbled, stretching.  
"Someone's at the door, and they won't leave." He said quietly.  
I paused to listen, and heard increasingly furious knocking on my front door.  
"Faya!" A furious voice yelled as the pounding continued.

"Oh shit." I cursed, and climbed out of bed, pulling ,y hair out of its messy ponytail and combing through it with my fingers.  
I opened the door, and saw his confused expression as I glanced down the stairs towards the door.  
"You better hide for a bit." I said quietly.  
"Who is it?" He asked.  
"My ex. Probably drunk. This should be interesting." I growled and pulled my robe on.  
He stepped past me into my bedroom and closed the door behind him.

"I'm coming!" I yelled angrily as I walked carefully down the stairs.  
The knocking lost some of its ferocity but persisted. I yanked it open and glared at Nick.

"What do you want Nick?" I snapped, crossing my arms.  
He blinked his bay blue eyes, all innocent, flashing his charming grin. More like shit-eating grin.  
"You haven't been answering my calls." He said, and took a step forward, like I was just going to let him in.  
"You're still calling?" I asked with a laugh, preventing him from walking in. "I blocked you weeks ago."  
"Why would you do that?" He asked, acting wounded.  
"Maybe ask your wife? Or your kids? Oh right, they don't know about me." I spat.

His smile faded, and he looked deeply upset.  
"Things aren't working out so well at home."  
"Oh, so you came crawling back in hopes your girl on the side would take you back until things got better again?"  
"Oh come on Faya." He said, trying to stroke my cheek. I slapped his hand away. "See, that's why I can't stay away from you. You're so ferocious. And I know you still love me. You wouldn't still be single if you didn't..." He teased, suddenly grabbing onto my hips, pulling me towards him.

"Hey babe, who's here?" A voice called, causing Nick to stop before he tried anything else.  
I forcefully stepped out of his reach, and glanced over my shoulder as the stranger came down the stairs, hair oddly messed up, looking sleepy. He gave me the slightest wink as he reached the bottom and walked towards me. I turned back to Nick, who's jaw was practically hitting the ground.

"It's nothing babe. Just some annoying jerk who won't leave me alone." I answered, grinning at Nick's stupefied face.  
"Who is that?" Nick asked, suddenly getting... angry? Worried? Intimidated?  
"This is my boyfriend... Jace. Jace, babe, this is Nick. Remember I told you all about him?" I asked, turning to the stranger as he came up beside me, casually draping an arm around my shoulders.

He stood a full head taller than Nick, and was way more in shape, and much scarier looking than anyone else I could imagine in this situation. I could only guess what Nick was thinking as he sputtered, staring up at Jace, then looking back at me.

"So, you were saying... something about me still being single?" I asked.  
He looked genuinely upset, almost heartbroken even.  
"Nevermind... I'll talk to you later." He said as he turned slowly and walked off.  
"Yeah, go back to your wife." The stranger called, and he flashed his dangerous smirk at Nick, which caused him to walk away much more quickly.

We went back inside and I closed the door, then burst out giggling.  
"That was awesome!" I said.  
He was smirking slightly, and then cocked an eyebrow.  
"Jace?" He asked.  
"Well yeah. Since you didn't give me your name I spent some time trying to guess what it was. Jace seems to fit you..." I answered.  
"Alright then. My name is Jace." He said firmly.  
"You're actually going to answer to that? Wouldn't it just be easier to tell me your name?" I asked.  
He just glared blankly at me.  
"Fine. Jace it is. Now that that shenanigan is over, how about some breakfast? I owe you one." I said and walked into the kitchen.  
"Oh." I said, stunned.

He'd already cooked breakfast. Waffles from the toaster, scrambled eggs, toast and jelly out, and orange juice. I turned to him, but he acted like it was no big deal as he loaded up a plate and sat down at the small kitchen table.  
"Um... thanks." I said quietly.  
"Mhmm." He mumbled.  
We sat down to a quick, quiet breakfast, and I found myself deeply grateful for letting Jace stay here. The look on Nick's face... priceless.

**Reviews please!  
**Even if you're just saying you love the story, reviews help! Thank you so much!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Captain America series or anything related to it. Faya Kline is my OC.  
Sorry for the long delay, it's finals week here at college and I'm super busy! Thank you to everyone for the reviews and follows and favorites!**

"Did you bother to bring anything with you?" I asked as I loaded the washer.

It'd been a rather quiet day, which was a blessing. I really had no idea what to do around Jace. I was still questioning my decision to let him stay. He was quiet for the most part, seeming completely content to nap on the couch and watch TV. However, I noticed he was wearing the same clothes as last night, and I didn't see any bags or anything around. Where was all his stuff?

"I didn't really have much to bring." He answered.  
"Well don't you want some clean clothes?" I asked, starting the washer.

He shrugged, and then turned an amused grin on me.  
"Are you trying to imply I stink?" He asked.  
"If you don't let me wash the clothes you have, you probably will."

He grinned at me, a true Jace grin, and I found myself smiling back.

"Alright, let's go shopping. I'm not entirely familiar with the area, but I assume there's a mall nearby?"  
"Yeah, we'll have to take a bus there. So... you actually want me to go with you?" I asked.  
"Well yeah, I'd probably get lost otherwise. Why, is that some weird thing?" He asked, looking genuinely confused.  
"Guys rarely want to go shopping..."  
"Well I have no other way to get clothes so let's go."

"Whoa haha I need to get dressed first." I said, glancing down at my slouchy sweat pants.  
"So you'll be ready in like two hours?" He asked, smirking smugly.

"That is such a stereotype!" I burst out. "I'm just throwing some jeans on and fixing my hair so I don't look like a street rat."  
"I'll time you." He commented lightly, turning his attention back towards the TV.

I went upstairs and pulled a pair of jeans from my dresser. As I pulled them on, I noticed they seemed big on me. Odd... then again, I keep forgetting to eat. I stopped to think about it for a minute. When was the last time Dad called? I pulled out my cell phone, and looked through the call log. It'd been over a month. Hmm...

I went into the bathroom and quickly brushed through my hair, and paused to look at myself. Ugh, I looked sick. Sleep deprivation and forgetting to eat probably caused that. I quickly smudged some concealer under my eyes to hide the dark circles and swiped on a coat of mascara. There, more human.

I grabbed a pair of socks and went back downstairs to find my shoes.  
"Impressive, ten minutes." Jace commented, and shot me a smirk as I glared at him.

I yanked on my sneakers and slid my credit card into my pocket, and then crossed my arms, staring at him.

"We ready?" He asked and stood up slowly, grunting. Apparently still recovering from the last bar fight.

We walked together a few blocks away to the bus stop. One came every half hour or so. We sat on the bench to wait, and I pulled out my phone and called my dad. Voicemail. Typical. He was always busy at work.

"Hey Dad, it's been a while since I heard from you. Call me back." I said quietly and hung up.

"Something wrong?" Jace asked as I put my phone back in my pocket.

"No. Just, my dad usually calls every two or three weeks to check on me. It's been over a month. It's odd, but its happened before. He works for some government agency, he's all secretive about it. He really likes his job though." I stopped talking and I realized I was rambling.

"No mom?" He asked bluntly, and it startled me for a moment, but I was getting the feeling Jace didn't mind being blunt.

"No, she abandoned me with my father right after I was born. To this day my father still doesn't know why, and no one has been able to find her since then... Oh well. Didn't need her anyways." I said quietly, shrugging it off.

Jace didn't talk anymore until we got on the bus, which was completely packed, and we ended up standing in the aisle with a few other people. It was a quiet ride, and Jace seemed content with staring out the windows and watching as we entered the shopping district. We were less than a mile from the mall when my phone buzzed once, a text message. I pulled it out, letting go of the strap hanging from the ceiling and leaning against a pole for support. It was from a restricted number, which sometimes came up when Dad was texting me back.

"Hey kiddo, sorry, busy at work as usual. Can't talk much right now, but soon."

I slid the phone back into my pocket, and as I looked up, everything slowed down. A car was backing out of an alley, really fast, the person in a rush to get into traffic to drive away. Too close for the bus to stop. The brakes screeched on and the driver spun the wheel, swerving to the side. I felt my feet leave the floor as I was thrown sideways-

An arm wrapped around my waist tightly, pulling me backwards, knocking the air out of me as the bus slammed to a stop. As soon as the halting motion stopped, I was spun around. Jace grabbed hold of my upper arms, lowering his head slightly to look into my eyes.

"You good?" He asked, glancing over me once.

I realized he'd grabbed me to stop me from flying into the wall of the bus, or flying forward, wherever momentum had planned to take my body. And he was genuinely concerned. I took a few deep breaths to get my lungs to relax after having the wind knocked out of me, and nodded.

"Yeah. Thanks." I said.

He let go of me after a moment, and I held onto the bar I had been leaning on as the bus slowly moved forward.

Why was Jace's one hand so cold and the other so warm?

**Reviews please!**


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